


I Am Ready For The Floor

by ClownBoy



Category: Batman (1966), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Alcohol, Bickering, M/M, a really gross necrophilia joke, non-sexual choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClownBoy/pseuds/ClownBoy
Summary: Penguin thinks having a villains' meeting at the Iceberg Lounge is a great idea!It is not.But Riddler does agree to let Joker teach him how to dance to try to impress him.
Relationships: Joker/Riddler, Riddlejokes - Relationship
Kudos: 12





	I Am Ready For The Floor

Walking into The Iceberg Lounge, one might distantly remember some latenight college-town open twenty-four hour experience they wished to forget. But missed.

They could barely see the Penguin through the smoke. "Greetings, esteemed guests. I'm hoping the accommodations are adequate."

Riddler sat. "Different, Oswald. Why the lounge?" He looked up. The dim lights were shaped like icicles. "Not complaining."

"My hopes were a more casual environment might bring about more... _pleasant_ presidings."

"Fair." Two-Face plopped his jacket on the barstool. "You compin' drinks?"

"N-"

He stood and slid his first sleeve back on.

"HEH! FINE."

"Deadlines, deadlines..." Joker slid a third empty glass into the neat row before him. "What's on the table, Pengy old boy?"

Penguin scratched his chin. "I was more interested in each individual's agenda." He stared at his notes. "As to avoid... mixups and mishaps," he looked up, "such as the fifteenth."

Riddler gulped.

Joker raised his eyebrows and sipped his newest cocktail.

In walked another redhead.

"Pam?" Joker looked left and right. "Where is the girl?"

Ivy removed her hat. "She's resting at home, I'm afraid. Apparently, she has a 'fever.'"

"Flu, or-?" He sipped.

"Don't ask me," she straightened her gloves and sat. "With my body temperature averaging sixty-eight degrees, and my need for mainly sunlight, I frequently forget 'people' need 'food.'"

"Fine, fine. Forget I asked."

"With pleasure."

He leaned back again and scoffed. "Riddles over there might steal my act again."

She sighed and looked at Penguin.

"Ladies, gentlemen... others. If I may have the floor, I would like to discuss our business matter without being interrupted again."

" _'Ageeen..'_ " Joker snickered into his drink.

"Shh!"

"I will not! Pengy, put me down for the thirtieth! Downtown. No further details needed."

Penguin stared at him. "I beg to disagree."

"Well, I haven't come up with it yet," Joker shrugged.

"Gonna swoop in on one of mine again?"

"Why, Riddles? Need to borrow a better costume?"

Ivy leaned in between them. "Oswald? I was planning on the thirtieth, but I suppose the twenty-ninth also coincides with the botanist conference."

"Botany? Surely, my ivied friend, this is an institution you hope to uphold?"

"You would think so." She took a long sip. "But they're trying to claim exclusive rights to a new modification that would end the use of pesticides in most major wheat and corn crops without harming the bee population discernibly. If you must know."

"I see."

"Oz!"

He lowered his monocle. "... Yes?"

"I was hoping the third was still free." Riddler pushed his hair behind his ear.

"... Tomorrow?"

"Yeah! It's gonna be great! Well. If you understand all the Kant references."

Five empty glasses in front of Joker now.

"Hmmm..." Oswald jotted something down.

Two-Face raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"I'm not gonna be here the seventh."

"Ohhhh! Harvey!" Joker grabbed the back of Harvey's seat. "But we've already done your half of the deathtrap's paintjob!"

"Yes. I know. I'll be gone."

Still writing. "May I ask the reason?"

His lip twitched. "Death in the family. Don't wanna go back. But he does."

Joker laughed. "I mean, we've all crashed a funeral, looked in the casket, and thought about spreading the remains, am I right, fellas?"

" **What is wrong with you?!** "

He winked. "Some got it, Eddie. Some don't."

Two-Face tensed.

Six glasses. He licked his lips and looked at Harvey, smile full of mischief. " _Get on your feet 'cause she's legally blooonde..._ "

He cracked a knuckle.

Joker stood. "Take to THE STREET 'CAUSE SHE'S," breath, "LEGALLY BLOooOOoonDE!"

And, just like that, Twofer had Joker in a chokehold against the wall.

"I DO NOT APPRECIATE SUCH UNCOMELY CONDUCT."

"Harvey, I completely understand, but the sooner you put him down, the sooner all of us can go home."

He stared at how neatly the pasty throat fit in his hand, the shiny white gloves weakly reaching for his arm. Then stopping. And then... a laugh.

"I..." Joker gasped. "Believe. In. Harvey! DENT! HAHAHAHHA!"

He dropped him. Everybody sat back down.

"Pfft! Get a load of this guy..." Riddler straightened his glasses.

"Oh, believe me... by the end of the night... you will."

"Gentlemen!"

Ivy looked up. "Yes?"

"Hweh..." Oswald flipped a few pages. "Anyone else? Anyone? Else?"

"Oswald, does this apply any further than this month? I was aware of something Harley was working on, but I'm sure it's now delayed until then. For the time being."

"Yes, yes." He waved a flipper. "Next month we will... commiserate."

Seven glasses. "And I've become a bit commiserable, Ozzy! Pardon me, I'd like to dance." He stood.

"It seems we have this in common, Mr. Joker. I have business upstairs." He stood and nodded. "Farewell, gentlemen. Dr. Isley."

Ivy nodded, swallowing the last of hers.

Harvey was also quick to leave, leaving just two sitting in the smoky, cold haze as Ivy gathered her things. An interesting combination.

"Kant, Ed? Kant?"

"Listen, you clown..."

"If you want to impress the man, it will take a little more than that. Show taste at least." Eight.

"Now, listen!"

"I could help you if you like."

"I will not be insulted! Especially not by- Are you serious?"

"Suuuuree. Not like I have much to lose. Taking advice from the fool makes two, my friend." He covered a burp, sat still for a few seconds, and continued. "But for starters, rich man like Oswald... You know any dance steps, Eddie? And, no, I do not mean... the funky chicken."

"Well, I-" he stood.

"Floor's over there." He shoved. "Knock us out."

"H... He didn't stick around to see you dance! What makes you think he cares about this sort of thing?"

Nine empty glasses. "You're immensely unattractive when you ask things of others."

"And what does that make you?"

"Not drunk enough. Dance, sucker!"

Riddler rolled his eyes but did seem to head in the dancefloor's direction.

"Joker... what are you doing?"

"Not sure yet, Pam. But! For now? Teaching the art of dance to a," he hiccuped, "specific tall idiot."

She just kind of stared, put her hat on, and left.

And he stared at his neat little row fondly before downing three half-finished orphaned ones and going to the floor himself. There he was greeted by a stiff Riddler who was very obviously trying.

"I take it you did Irish step dancing as a kid."

"Shut up."

"Biting the hand that feeds, Eddie. Look. This one's easy to get right. Same footwork for leading and following. Take my hands." He crossed his right foot to where Riddler's was. "Do the same."

He did.

"And turn."

He turned.

"Just swell, Ed. Now," he whispered, " _do it without looking at your feet. 'Less that's your thing_."

He rolled his eyes.

Joker smiled. "Very nice. Soon we might even have you waltzing. In fact, box step, go!"

"Wh-!" Before he could think, he was being pulled in circles.

"Sooner than you thought? HOOHOOOO!"

"THIS IS NOT A BOX STEP!"

"Fine, I'll slow it. Does this work for you?"

"... Yes."

"Now get more comfortable with your arms! Follow your hips with them."

"Like this?"

"Oh, just like that. Now, this music is not three four, but you get the idea. Down. Up, up. Down. There you go."

He smiled. Until he didn't. "So, what makes you think Penguin isn't into enlightenment philosophy?"

"Hmm... well, firstly, he is a money man moreso than a thinker. Not like you or I. And, according to my sources south of the bridge, the monocle is function. But, even without visual impairments, I'd guess the majority are not exactly seeking out and reading some of the most boring texts on the planet." He felt Riddler's grip loosen. "Though! Though! I do believe he may have been around when it was written."

He turned his laugh into a cough. "Okay. Fair." He looked at his feet again. "Sources south of the bridge have... anything to say about me?"

"A few."

"Like?"

"Like, well, for instance, Oswald over there probably won't recognize your Kant references. But Batman will."

He followed Joker's turn. "Is this about the fifteenth?"

Joker looked behind him. "We don't have to discuss it if-"

"No, if you have something to say-"

"Fine. Fine! I just... I don't think anything has ever been more insulting to me than having Batman send his little **brat** to deal with me because YOUR far less spectacular scene had a potentially higher bodycount. I should be priority! I will not **settle**."

Riddler let go.

"Understandably, I missed last month's meeting, and there's only so many green and purple locations close to water sources, but still, I think..."

He rocked a foot back, forward, three side steps. Two, three... cha, cha... cha.

"... I was not expecting a _ch_ -CHA."

"Cha cha." You could almost hear the asterisk. "Middle school dance. I don't remember much. Do you?"

"Might take me a minute to remember how to lead, but-" He held his arms out, switching their height after a moment.

Riddler's grip was... different. And he was... almost good.

This wasn't standard step stuff. Oh, no. They crushed cockroaches, they chased eachother, they stayed (well, mostly stayed) on-beat. Riddler was almost smiling, and then... Their noses were touching. And neither of them were moving away. What happened next is between Riddler, Joker, and the surveillance state. But I will say tongue was involved.

  
"Oh, great. JUST. GREAT!!!"

Harley's eyes snapped open. "What is it, Honeybunch?"

"I'm not paying you for therapy anymore! I've had it!" He zipped past with several pairs of socks over his arm.

"Well, I'm offering, so spill!" She followed him. "You're disturbing the quiet, ya might as well tell me why. Least you could do, huh?"

"HE'S NOT ANSWERING MY TEXTS!" The socks smacked into an open briefcase. Followed by several ties from the floor.

"There it is! I thought you'd accepted that months ago."

He paused. "No, not... him. Eddie now! Eddie's too good for me, now? And _my_ calls?" He grabbed a nearby blazer and shoved it in. "I'm moving to Metropolis!"

"Puddin'..."

"I mean it this time!" He zoomed out.

Harley waited.

" _Heroes_ I understand, little goodie-two-shoeses that they are, but now other felons?" He returned with a sleeve of saltines. "To me? I am not taking it anymore!"

"And what's in Metropolis that's so much better than here, huh? I bet not the girls with the willingness, the patience, and the strength to wheel ya in to halfa these future crime scenes."

He checked his watch. "... Lex! Lex is there. Boy in blue is sure to take notice of me." The loading of socks continued.

"And what then, Creampuff? What happens when _they_ don't text ya? And your missed rent payments get us evicted again?"

He stared at the pile several times bigger than the case it was sitting in.

So did she. And took a few steps toward the kitchen. "Could you get Bud some of that chow he likes? Or where did you get it from?"

"You're probably right."

"Probably?"

"Harley, I do appreciate your input. It's not as if I can't still barrel in to Lex's office whenever I like and hightail it back before dinner."

"Right!"

"And if it's a statement they need... I'm sure I can work out something to be noticed. Quickly! _Eas_ ily!"

"There he is!! Now, get dressed, will ya? I got a deal going down in about forty and I _mmmaaayyy_ have promised you'd be there."

"... What?"

"Look, I'm glad you gave me the alibi in fronta Pengy and his friends, but yesterday, they searched our prospective recipient, and I'm sure they'll search our flat today. We gotta skedaddle, Pumpkin."

"... WHAT?"

Harley rolled her eyes, dug in her pocket, and waved the prized Kingston Emerald he remembered hearing about a few days ago.

"Oh." Joker stood. He sniffed his armpit. "Right! Gimme ten, kid!" He held up a finger and marched out, leading with his kneecaps. And back in. "It's the select gourmet fish stuff in the red bag. Got it at Discount Mart on third last time." He waved and was out of sight again.

"Hey, thanks! We can get some on the way!"

The rest of the night was not important. Or last night. At least, that's what Joker had to tell himself to stay somewhat sane.


End file.
